


Rest

by eutrash (AreteNike)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Reality, Demon AU, M/M, Multi, Shiro is a veteran, Voltron Rarepair Bang, cuttyhunk, i mean only zarkon is a demon but. there are demons and its an au., matt is doing his best, sam has a boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13224081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eutrash
Summary: Shiro and Matt's island getaway is interrupted first by the guy that stumbles out of a dimensional rift, and second by the demons that follow.





	Rest

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for the rarepair bang!! its way longer than i meant it to be!! :V
> 
> illustrated by the fabulous [tiff-the-little-wanderer!!](http://tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com/) you can find her post with the art [here](http://tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com/post/169169910613/rest-by-eugyne-aretenike-rarepair)

When Shiro steps off the Holt family boat onto the dock, he can't say he's too impressed.

Right off the bat, the marina is small and half-empty; the Holt's boat is one of the largest there and it's barely big enough to spend the night on. They're docked about as far out as they can get but the wharf at the other end of the marina is barely a football field's length away; he can read the signs on the row of tiny shops from here, advertising LOBSTER ICE FRESH FISH, and a raw bar. There are no clean white buildings here, no offices or waterfront resorts—as far as he can tell the marina is operated from a tiny shack at the head of the dock, and the next most official-looking building is the public restroom by the dumpster. There's no parking lot, even, unless you count the row of golf carts on the gravel where the pavement ends. A single road trails out of sight to, presumably, the rest of the island.

"What do you think?" asks Matt.

"When you said you were taking me on an island adventure," Shiro says slowly, "this isn't exactly what I pictured."

"Hey, Cuttyhunk is great," Matt protests. "And, more importantly, it's _quiet_."

Shiro certainly has to concede that point. There's the lapping of water and the creak and clank of boats, and the faint chatter of conversation from the wharf, and a distant motor—golf cart or dinghy, he can't tell. And that's it.

It's peaceful.

He could use some peace.

"Alright," he says. "Where are we going?"

Matt grins and points to the road. "Up."

* * *

The house—a rental, for two weeks—sits not far below the peak of the island, and it's a long, steep march up. Even carrying his bag _and_ the cooler, Shiro's fine; he may have lost some muscle mass since he came back but his endurance is still high. Matt, on the other hand, is wheezing noisily by the time they stop at the front door.

"Need a moment?" Shiro asks.

"I'm good," Matt puffs, dropping his bag on the stoop. He fishes around in his pocket for the key, fights the lock a moment, and finally pushes the door open.

"There." He gestures inside. "Make yourself at home."

The house is... small. Cozy, if he's feeling generous. The door opens right into the dining room, which is open to the living room; the kitchen's through a doorway and the bathroom's next to the entrance. Two doors lead off each side of the living room, presumably to the bedrooms. There's a sliding glass door set into the far wall that leads out to a porch—almost a balcony, the way the ground slopes. Everything is paneled in wood; all the living room furniture is wicker.

And that's pretty much all there is to the house.

"Cute," he says flatly.

"Wow, no need to get hysterical, it's just a house," Matt returns, equally flat. He tugs the cooler out of Shiro's hands.

Shiro sighs. "I don't... mean to be rude, or anything. I just..." Now free of his extra burden, he wanders across the room and peers into one of the bedrooms. There's a couple of twin beds in there, under a slanted ceiling. "In the dark, it might look a lot like the barracks."

"Oh," Matt says behind him, now soft. "Uh, would you rather sleep on the boat with Dad? Would that be any better?"

He's seen the guest sleeping arrangements on the boat—they amount to a triangular cushion tucked into the bow, four feet off the ground. It's a stretch to call it a bed.

"I think the boat would be worse."

"Well, you can have the big room." Matt comes to stand at his side, nodding back across the living room to the other bedroom. "That bed's way bigger than anything in any barracks. Would that help?"

Shiro turns and walks over to look. The room's really not any bigger, and the ceiling is still slanted, but Matt's right about the bed.

"Probably," he says, and drops his bag on the bed to start unpacking.

"Alrighty. Dad's gonna bring some fish up for dinner—unless you want lobster?"

"Fish is fine. What kind?"

"Dunno, whatever they have, but it'll be fresh."

"As long as it isn't salmon."

"Duly noted." Matt throws him a sloppy salute and picks up the cooler again. "Try to relax, 'kay?"

"That's the goal." Shiro offers him a smile—Matt's done a lot for him since he came back, and this vacation is just the latest attempt to help. He appreciates that, even if he'd kind of rather be back at his apartment. It's familiar, at least. This situation is entirely new.

Which is probably good for him, but that doesn't mean it's comfortable.

By the time he's unpacked, Sam is on his way with fresh swordfish and a couple of stuffed quahogs, so he helps Matt root through the kitchen to find everything they'll need for dinner. Of course, he's shooed back out of the kitchen when it's time to cook—because he's supposed to be relaxing.

Frankly, he'd prefer to keep busy.

Still, dinner is delicious, and Sam sticks around for a couple hours after to chat. The sun has long since set by the time he finally heads back down to the boat, leaving the house to Shiro and Matt.

"There _are_ enough beds here," Shiro points out.

"He says the boat rocks him to sleep," says Matt. "And there is something reasonably bed-like in the stern, it's not all triangle cushions."

"Fair enough."

"You wanna take a walk or something?" Matt is watching him with that tentative look he gets when he wants to give Shiro something to focus on without being obvious about it.

"I think I'll just turn in. Maybe read a little," Shiro says. He's been coddled enough for today, frankly.

"Alright. Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

He goes to bed.

* * *

Shiro is startled awake sometime in the middle of the night by a loud crackling and a light bright enough that even through the one window it illuminates the entire room. He sits up groggily, tense, half-thinking he's having a flashback.

As he wakes up, though, he realizes this is nothing like he's experienced before. He makes his way to the window, shielding his eyes with his hand. He can't discern the source of the light—it's too bright to look at directly—but he can see the lightning that crackles away from it and the ground below. There's a figure there, hunched and clutching their side.

The light starts to fade. The sound fades too and now he can hear shouts from the nearby houses—the whole island must have seen whatever this is. Before the light is gone entirely, the figure looks up.

He's human—a young man, with dark hair, face twisted in pain. He meets Shiro's eyes through the window, and his own widen.

Then the light is gone.

Shiro breathes in, and breathes out. Then he jerks around and all but sprints out the bedroom door.

He almost collides with the sliding door to the porch, and nearly falls over when he tries to open it but finds it locked; he fumbles with the latch with his shaking hand and finally shoves it open with a bang. There's a confused mumble from Matt's room but Shiro's already on the porch.

His eyes dart around—he hasn't been out here yet and it takes him a moment to find the stairs. As soon as he does he rushes down them, almost tripping in his haste. He searches the shadows—it's almost unbelievably dark here, no streetlights or cars or midnight parties to illuminate the land, only the stars—and it's a new moon tonight, so there's not even that. There's not really a lawn down here, either, just overgrown grass and uneven lumps that must be some kind of scrub.

"Here," a voice rasps, and Shiro finally spots him. The young man is kneeling not far away, arms still clamped over his stomach, half hidden in the grass. Shiro wades through the vegetation over to him.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The man huffs a laugh. "Do I look okay?"

There's a shout nearby before Shiro can respond, and the man's head snaps up to look. He grimaces.

"Do you want to come inside?" Shiro offers before he knows what he's saying. The man squints at him.

"...That'd be nice," he says, and then he's struggling to his feet. Shiro bends to help, hiking the man's arm over his undamaged shoulder. He steadies him with his arm—he doesn't have a free hand to hold on to the railing, he didn't exactly put on his prosthetic on the way out, but they manage the stairs somehow anyway. He can hear others running through the brush nearby as they finally get through the door.

Matt is there, awake, inside, with the light on.

"What the hell?" he rasps.

It only now dawns on Shiro that he's just brought a strange man—who just fell out of a glowing hole in the sky, apparently—into their house. It was just instinct—another thing pounded into his head abroad that he hasn't yet managed to shake.

"Uh," he says, freezing.

The man sighs. "I can explain. I'm not dangerous, I promise."

Matt looks hard at the newcomer. His eyes flick doubtfully up to Shiro.

"We can hear him out, at least," Shiro says. "I know you're curious."

Matt's face screws up at that. "I _am,_ but that doesn't mean this isn't incredibly stupid."

"Please," the man whispers.

Matt takes another long look at him; then he sighs, and his shoulders slump.

"Fine. Let's hear it."

Shiro shoots him a small, grateful grin, and leads the man over to the couch. He settles down on it heavily. In the light the blood and rips in his shirt are obvious—and burn marks, and the dirt and ashes smudged on his skin. He doesn't seem to be bleeding _hard,_ at least, but Shiro can see the developing bruises on his side that his fingers and tattered shirt don't quite cover.

It's not unlike so many people Shiro has seen before, and his chest clenches painfully.

"My name is Keith," the man says. "I, uh. Escaped here."

"...From?" Matt asks pointedly.

Keith takes a deep breath. "From an alternate reality overrun by demons?" he says, like he knows he won't be believed.

Which, yeah, Shiro's not sure he _can_ believe that.

"Right," says Matt. "Uh-huh. Sure."

"Why would I lie?" Keith's brow furrows and his tone turns defensive.

"'Cause you're a criminal or something. Running from the law. I dunno. Do you have any proof?"

"...I fell out of a glowing hole in the sky?"

Matt's face scrunches up.

"That's true, Matt. I saw it," Shiro offers.

"He could still be running from the law."

Keith huffs and drops his arms. "You think any police are gonna leave wounds like this?"

Without his arms in the way, the gouges across his stomach are easily visible. Four long, parallel marks stretch from his right side almost all the way over to the space above his hipbone, almost covered by the band of his jeans. His shirt hangs in bloody strips. The wound isn't deep, but it’s fresh.

It looks like it was left by claws—not any sort of human weapon. Certainly not shrapnel.  
Matt takes a deep breath. "Shiro?"

"What... caused it?" Shiro asks slowly.

"What, the wound or the demons?" Keith presses his arms to his stomach again.

"Both, I guess."

"One, a demon, obviously," Keith says flatly. "Two, I don't really know what started it. They just showed up and started destroying everything."

"And what's to stop them from following you here?" Matt asks, arms crossed.

"They don't know where I went," says Keith, which is not reassuring in the least.

"You're sure?"

"I took every possible precaution. I'm sure."

Matt stares at him. Keith stares firmly back.

"Fine," Matt says finally. "Okay, no demons. Sure. What exactly was your plan?"

Keith shrugs, and there's a little less tension in his shoulders. "Survive? I wasn't sure I'd make it here alive, I didn't really think about what would happen after."

"So you're just... flying by the seat of your pants, here."

Keith snorts faintly. "Yeah, something like that."

Matt shoots Shiro another look, somewhere between despairing and "can you believe this guy?"

"Well," Shiro says slowly. "I know where we can start, at least. Matt, where's the first aid kit?"

* * *

Shiro learns a few things about Keith in the process of patching him up: one, he barely gives the prosthetic a second glance when Shiro puts it on, and doesn't flinch at its touch; two, beneath the grime and blood he's got washboard abs that even Shiro is a little jealous of (and by Matt's expression, he certainly is too); and three, he probably hasn't eaten in a while. He learns this last one when Keith's stomach rumbles loud enough Shiro can actually feel it through the bandages.

"I'll go heat up the leftovers," Matt offers, though whether he's warming up to Keith or just needs an excuse to leave the room so he can stop being jealous over the aforementioned abs, Shiro doesn't know.

Still, soon enough Keith is bandaged, fed, and reasonably clean after a trip to the bathroom (during which Matt half-heartedly glared on and off at Shiro and neither said a word), and they're back at square one.

"He can't have the extra bed," Matt declares, but with less heat than before. "I'm not letting a stranger sleep three feet away from where I'm sleeping."

Keith throws a nervous glance towards the glass door, but he nods. "That's fair."

"Then he can have the couch tonight, and we can figure out what to do in the morning." Shiro drags a hand down his face, fully ready after tonight's excitement to go back to sleep. "Okay?"

"Okay," says Matt.

"Thanks," says Keith.

So Shiro grabs him an extra blanket from the closet, and they all turn in a scant hour or two before dawn. Shiro barely manages to get his arm off before he's asleep.

* * *

Shiro sleeps in. It's something he absolutely never does, so he feels more than a little disoriented when he fumbles for his phone and finds it's almost 9 am. And, when he wakes up a little more, he's surprised to hear a low murmur of conversation outside his door.

Either there's a stranger—a stranger stranger than Keith—in the house, or Sam came up for breakfast.

Or, he realizes as he blearily opens his bedroom door and finds no Sam in sight, Matt has actually somehow warmed up to Keith. They're sitting on the sofa together, chatting, and Keith's wearing one of Matt's shirts. Both look up when he enters.

"Sleeping beauty awakes!" Matt announces, getting to his feet. "Whaddya want for breakfast? Eggs good?"

"Yeah," Shiro mumbles. "Eggs are fine. You're getting along now?"

"Yeah," Matt says, in the deceptively light tone he uses when he's hiding something, and heads into the kitchen. Keith just shrugs.

Shiro decides he'll figure it out later and heads to the bathroom.

Keith is in exactly the same spot as before when he emerges, already looking his way, which is a little unnerving. Even in the soft light of morning he's got an intense gaze. Still, Shiro heads over and settles on the couch too, giving him a surreptitious once-over.

"How are you doing?" Shiro asks.

"Better," Keith says. "Haven't slept so much in weeks."

It can't have been more than four or so hours since they all turned in, and they thought sends a pang of sympathy straight to Shiro's heart.

"You can go back to sleep, if you want," he says, but Keith just shrugs again.

"It's fine."

"Shiro!" Matt calls from the kitchen, and Keith looks away, evidently done with the conversation. So Shiro gets up and goes to see what Matt wants.

What Matt wants is to give him his breakfast, apparently, but he also insists Shiro sit at the counter instead of going out to the dining room. He takes the other stool and fixes him with a look.

"Shiro, he can't stay here forever," he says firmly.

Shiro sighs and swallows a mouthful of eggs. "I know that, Matt, but what are we supposed to do? Kick him out to fend for himself?"

"I am one hundred percent sure he could handle it."

"He's injured."

Matt squints at him. He takes a deep breath.

"It's not actually about Keith, is it?" he asks softly, and all at once Shiro has had enough. He slams his fork down against the counter, making Matt jump.

"Is it about the war? Is that what you're asking?" he demands. "Do you think I'll shatter if you say it? Oh, God, Shiro went to war! Shiro lost his fucking arm! Shiro got _fucked up!_ Just fucking _say_ it, Matt!"

Matt lifts his hands placatingly. "I just meant—"

"Wow, let's go to an island, it's as far from the desert as you can fucking get, great idea, Matt! Let's keep Shiro from anything that might remind him even a _little_ about the war! Perfect!"

"Shiro—"

"I'm so fucking tired of you _coddling_ me. I can handle making dinner, for fuck's sake, you think I'll, what, have a psychotic break from seeing a kitchen knife? Is that it? Do you think I can't handle it?"

"No," Matt says weakly.

"Then stop treating me like glass," Shiro huffs, and takes a deep breath. God that felt good to say.

And then he looks down and sees his fork is bent in his hand and there's a dent in the counter. Matt is completely frozen beside him. His breath leaves him in a regretful whoosh.

"Sorry," he breathes, and slowly unclenches his hand. "Sorry. Um. I. Yeah, sorry."

"...How long have you been holding onto that?" Matt asks, gentle but in a better way. The way they used to be, before everything. And he's still around for some reason. God, Shiro doesn't deserve him.

"Months, probably," Shiro admits.

"You could've said something."

"I should have," Shiro agrees. "I... I didn't want you to think I don't appreciate your help. I do. I just..."

"Feel like I'm treating you like glass," Matt finishes. "I'm sorry, Shiro. I'll stop. And I'll tell Dad, too."

"Thanks," Shiro sighs.

"And, um." Matt hesitates. " _Is_ it about the war? The reason you want to help Keith so badly?"

Shiro sighs again. "You mean, was there someone I couldn't save and I'm projecting? No. Did I try to save everyone I could? Yes. It's habit, but it's not really because of the war. You know me, Matt."

It's Matt's turn to sigh. "Yeah, I guess you've always been like this. Okay. Sorry."

"It's fine."

Shiro regards his bent fork, and reaches over to the drawer to grab a new one. He resumes his eggs.

"We still have to figure out what to do with him," Matt says eventually.

"I know." Shiro frowns. "Maybe your father will have some ideas."

"You're gonna tell him?"

"Why not? You're just like him, and you've accepted Keith for now. He will, too."

Matt mock gasps. "I am _not_ like my father, you take that back."

"Not a chance." Shiro grins and finishes off his eggs. He takes his plate to the sink to wash and Matt doesn't try to stop him.

"He'll be up for lunch!" Matt calls after him as he leaves the room.

And then Shiro sees Keith staring at him in shock and oh yeah, he's here. He's been here the whole time.

"Uh. Sorry you had to hear that," Shiro says awkwardly.

"Oh. No, um. I get it," Keith says. "I know what it's like. Kinda. I mean, not the glass part."

"...The war part?" Shiro asks.

"Yeah. The demons... Yeah." Keith rubs the back of his neck. "I... guess it's not really the same, though."

"I can only imagine, but... I'd think it's close enough." Shiro forgets about getting changed into real clothes and joins Keith on the couch again. "You were fighting them?"

"Yeah," says Keith. "Didn't really have a choice."

"You or them."

"Yeah."

Shiro sits back in his seat. "I guess demons wouldn't have guns."

"They had gunpowder," Keith says. "Or something like. Some of them had crossbows and the bolts would explode. They had bombs..."

"Bombs," Shiro repeats.

"Yeah. Grenades, really. But only the little ones used them."

"Why?"

"The big ones didn't need them. Some of them could breathe fire."’

"We... definitely didn't have that."

Keith smiles, just a little. "I didn't think you would."

Shiro leans forward, clasping his hands between his knees. One flesh, one metal.

"Did they take prisoners?" he asks.

"Sometimes," says Keith. "We know some were taken to an arena, forced to fight for sport. We never found out what happened to the rest, though. We thought... We thought maybe they ate them."

"...Oh."

Keith shrugs. "They're demons. At least they couldn't fly."

Shiro nods slowly. "We had... air strikes. Both sides."

Keith shudders. "Can't imagine. That's too many sides to guard."

"You get used to just... never relaxing. Some places were safer than others, but out there, you always had it in the back of your head..." Shiro gestures vaguely.

"It could happen at any time. Yeah," Keith finishes, and they share a smile—a sort of awkward, wry one, but a smile nonetheless. It falls away quickly.

"You escaped," Shiro says finally. "They can't get you here. You're safe now."

"You too," Keith says, eyeing him, and Shiro blinks. He hadn't been thinking about himself while saying it, but…

"I guess so, yeah," he says.

Keith gives him that small, sad smile again and pats his shoulder, and then he gets up and heads to the bathroom. Shiro lingers on the couch another moment before he finally goes to get dressed.

* * *

They had been planning to walk around the island that morning—"Not that there's anything to see," Matt had said—but Keith kind of throws a wrench in that plan. Matt doesn't want to leave him in the house alone, Shiro doesn't want him out walking while he's injured, and Keith himself isn't particularly keen on leaving the house ("Haven't convinced myself it's safe out there yet," he says flatly, to which Shiro nods, and Matt looks between the two of them and doesn't question it). So they stay in, rummaging through the board games left in the house but not really committing to any of them, until it's almost time for lunch.

Then a loud crackling sound interrupts their conversation.

Keith freezes, going deathly pale in an instant; Matt simply looks up, curious. But Shiro gets up and goes to the glass door to look out back, because the sound seems familiar…

Sure enough, the yard is full of light, less jarring than last night but still too bright to look at. Shiro's stomach sinks to his toes.

And then small dark shapes start pouring out of it.

"Scouts," Keith says at his elbow, voice flat and empty, and Shiro starts. "We have to go. This place isn't defensible."

"It's an island covered in cottages, nowhere is gonna be defensible," Shiro says.

"Hey, they gotta weather hurricanes out here," Matt hisses. "But don't you think we should head to the boat? Get the fuck _off_ the island?"

"That's a better idea," Keith agrees stiffly. There's a pause, a breath, while they stand at the door watching demons clamber out of the portal.

And then they're running for the front door.

The entire island is outside right now, it seems, when they stumble out onto the street. Most are still just staring towards the light, but a few are starting to back away—the rustlings and gurgling calls of the demons are growing louder. Keith doesn't hesitate, though, turning downhill and starting off at a run, and Matt rushes to follow.

Shiro, though, stops cold. These people have no idea what’s coming.

“Run!” he shouts, startling a few. “Get down to the marina! We have to get out!”

“Shiro!” Matt jogs back up to him and grabs his arm. “Come on, we gotta go!”

“I can’t just—”

“You’re not responsible for the entire island, Shiro, let’s _go._ ”

Shiro turns, ready to argue, but he doesn’t have to; Sam is coming up to meet them, trailed by a deeply frowning Keith.

"What's the ruckus?" Sam asks.

"We have to _go_ ," Keith says tightly.

"There are demons pouring out of a hole in the sky," Matt explains, and his father's eyebrows shoot up.

"Demons?"

"It's a long story," says Keith. "I’ll explain on the boat. You’re the one with the boat, right?"

"Now, hold on," Sam says. “I want to see.” He turns to his son. “Who’s this?”

"That's Keith, he _also_ fell out of a hole in the sky, and he knows more about demons than any of us do, which is why I trust him when he says we should run," Matt explains in one breath. Keith glances at him, eyebrows lifted, but he nods.

"We need to go before it gets worse," he says. "They're just gonna keep coming." His words are accompanied by a distant scream.

At this, Sam straightens. "In that case," he says, "we can't just run. We need to evacuate."

"Agreed," says Shiro.

Keith grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, but he nods. “How many can your boat fit?”

"Twenty or so. Any more would be dangerous, but we could do it if we had to."

Keith looks up the hill. "How many people on the island?"

"A few hundred, maybe. But we're not the only ones with a boat."

"Any ferries?"

"There is one, but I don't know its schedule offhand."

Keith bites his lip. The rest wait. Another scream drifts downhill.

"We can't get everyone off at once," Keith says finally. He heaved a sigh. "Which means we have to organize a resistance to hold them off while we evacuate. Come on."

He starts off uphill. Shiro follows, but behind him he hears Sam say to Matt, "Are you sure about him?"

"It's not like we have a lot of options, Dad," Matt responds. "I don't know how to organize a resistance, do you?"

Sam's voice drops out of hearing range but Shiro can guess what's being said as they hurry back up the road. Not least because Matt says, quite clearly, "He's not gonna break if you ask him."

"Son—"

"But Keith volunteered, so we can let him do it, for now. At least give him a shot."

"All right," Sam says, louder now but noticeably worried. Shiro can't blame him.

At least, when they get around the house to where the portal is visible, they find a few boys with baseball bats already fending off the horde. The crowd still lingers, though, which makes Shiro want to scream. Don't they know they're in _danger?_

"Hey! We need to evacuate!" Keith shouts, and they finally stir.

It takes about thirty seconds to find volunteers for the first trip off the island, and a hell of a lot longer to organize the rest. Keith seems to already have a list of what he needs: front-liners to hold off the scouts, barricades, lookouts, traps and weapons. The one-room schoolhouse becomes their base of operations, and when the boys get tired—though the horde of demons has absolutely thinned with their attention—a handful of people from mothers to fisherman volunteer to take over. It's chaotic, but somehow not as much as Shiro expected. Maybe because Keith so obviously knows what he's doing, and no one has any better ideas but to follow his lead. Maybe because the most disagreeable of the lot are down by the docks, trying to squeeze onto one of the boats out.

"They're not taking _our_ island," he hears a middle-aged woman mutter as she walks by, crowbar in hand. So maybe it's that, too.

Shiro does his best to calm the frantic and soothe the fearful, but also convince and/or intimidate those who need an extra push to follow Keith's orders. He organizes the front-line volunteers himself, too; it's nothing like the military but he has a decent sense of tactics and a good sense of what Keith is trying to accomplish here.

He sends off the latest round of volunteers and looks around for Keith; he finds him frowning at a handful of maps (one from the post office/visitor center, two hand-drawn by locals within the past hour) and a hastily scribbled volunteer roster. Matt returns the same time Shiro gets to him.

"The marina's just about empty," Matt announces. "There's still a few boats, I think mostly belonging to our militia. The rest have left for the first trip. We got 66 people off."

Keith grimaces. They all know at that rate it will take hours to evacuate.

"It's a good start," he says, though. He runs his fingers over a map. "We're gonna need to dig in, though. Shore up our defenses. And we need to secure the island's peak." He taps a spot on the map.

"Shit, the cell tower," Matt says. "We need that."

"Exactly, and it's a good vantage point. There's only the one portal _now,_ but it won't stay that way."

"Well, we have plenty of volunteers," says Shiro, gesturing behind him. "What is there for defenses already?"

"Fuck all," Matt says grimly. "There's a platform we can build off, though, and a chain link fence around the tower itself. Otherwise, there's hardly even brush to hide in."

"We'll just have to make do. I've already asked everyone with a golf cart to start gathering building materials," Keith says. He gives Shiro an appraising look. "Shiro, d'you think you can take charge up there? We may end up physically cut off..."

"I can do it," Shiro says, even though he can feel Matt's concerned eyes on him. He doesn't know how well he's going to handle it, but he won't find out by sitting around here, and he's not going to back out when people need him.

"You don't have to," Keith adds, but Shiro shakes his head.

"I can do it," he repeats. "D'you want me up there now?"

"Yeah. Start doing what you can." Keith gives him a final look before turning back to Matt. "We did hear back from the Coast Guard, by the way."

"And?"

"And they'll be here in about three hours, along with the National Guard."

"Good," Matt says as Shiro walks away. "If it's gonna get bad..."

"It will," Keith promises darkly. Shiro approaches the remaining volunteers.

"We need to protect the cell tower," he tells them. "If you're willing, let's go."

All of them follow him out. He feels a weird sort of pride at that, at these ordinary citizens so determined to protect their island.

He hasn't been to the island's peak yet, but it's not exactly hard to find. Just across the street is a road that leads up, and the cell tower is visible near the top of it. A handful of golf carts are chugging up and down the road, bringing supplies up, and coming back down to get more. Most going up have empty seats and offer them all rides up, and Shiro accepts just so he can get a look at the area before he has to tell anyone what to do.

It's just as Matt described it, bare but for the platform and tower. But what Matt didn't mention is that the view is pretty spectacular. Much of the town is hidden behind the trees, but the other side of the island is uninhabited and green right down to the ocean. The ocean itself sparkles in the sunlight and distant islands lie on the horizon.

He wishes he could've come up here before all this demon stuff, so he could actually appreciate it. But then, it probably just would've made him bitter.

It's hard to be bitter about forced relaxation when it's been interrupted by demons, he'll admit.

The rest of his team shows up shortly, and they get to work, digging trenches and building a wall around the peak where they can hopefully hold off an onslaught, if it comes to that. All of them glance frequently down the hill, just in case, but the sound of battle remains faint.

They've got a reasonably strong defensive barrier up, all things considered, by late afternoon when a teenage boy comes up the hill at full tilt. He has to stop and pant before he can speak, waving a hand down the hill to where, Shiro suddenly realizes, the sounds have stopped.

"The scouts... are gone," the boy puffs. "Portal's still... open. Keith wants to talk with you."

"Alright, I'm coming," Shiro says. He looks back over his shoulder. "You all should take a break. We've been working for hours."

He gets a few nods, but a few people keep going. He's not gonna argue the point right now though, not if Keith needs him. He sets off down the hill.

* * *

The atmosphere in the makeshift headquarters is subdued. Keith is striding sharply back and forth in front of his table; Matt is sitting on it, idly swinging his legs as he watches Keith pace.

"Do you know what's going on?" Shiro asks them as he approaches. Both stop moving.

"I have suspicions," Keith says.

"They aren't good," Matt adds.

"They're definitely preparing for something," Keith continues, and starts pacing again. "Could just be another wave, but they used to fill the gaps with scouts, so it's weird they'd stop completely. And they definitely haven't given up."

"So what are they doing?"

Keith huffs and clenches a fist in his hair, making it stick out wildly. "I think they found out I'm here."

Shiro raises his eyebrows. "And that changes things?"

"Turns out our guest of honor is kind of a badass," Matt says, with a rather grim smirk.

"Um. Yeah, I was sort of... in charge. Of some stuff," Keith says to the floor, stopping and kind of hunching inward. Something sinks in Shiro's gut.

"And you... ran away?" he asks slowly. Keith shrinks further inward.

"It's not like I abandoned them on purpose," he mutters. "I wasn't the only one in charge, and they knew I was going. They'll be fine without me. I mean. They're not any _more_ doomed just 'cause I'm gone."

That doesn't make Shiro feel any better.

"Can we expect you to leave us too, then?" he asks, knowing his voice has gone cold. "You brought the demons to us and you're going to leave us with them, is that it? Is that what you did to them?"

"Shiro," Matt interjects. "Let him explain."

"It wasn't like that!" Keith bursts out before Matt has finished, looking up to meet his eyes. "I didn't—it was a _suicide mission,_ okay? I wasn't supposed to _survive,_ let alone come here! I was _supposed_ to take their leader out with me." He takes a breath and looks down at the floor again. "But I couldn't do it and I ended up here instead."

The knot in Shiro's gut loosens, but doesn't unknot, not yet. "But somehow they shouldn't have been able to follow you here?"

"I was hiding. I know how to cover my tracks. There wasn't any way for them to tell where I went."

"Apparently they had a way you didn't know about."

Keith sighs. "Yeah. Apparently."

Shiro pauses. "A suicide mission."

Keith fidgets. "Yeah."

Shiro's not sure what to say about that. He's not even sure if he should. Keith meets his eyes, almost glaring, as if daring him to. Matt watches them, completely still.

"Okay," Shiro says. "Sorry for... getting mad at you."

"It's fine," Keith says, but something in his stance relaxes anyway.

There's a brief silence. Matt shifts on the table.

"What do you think they're preparing for?" Shiro asks finally, and Keith grimaces.

"I think they're probably focusing on my—on the team back home," he says. "Telling them I ran away, maybe. They have to know by now my mission failed."

"Keith..." Matt says. Keith shakes his head.

"They're smart, they can figure it out. That doesn't affect this place, anyway. I think they're changing tactics because if they know I'm here, they know the usual won't work on me."

"And if they don't know you're here? What could they be doing?" Shiro asks.

Keith slumps again. "I don't fucking _know._ It's weird."

"Okay," Shiro says slowly. "Then, what do we do?"

"I don't KNOW!" Keith blurts. He grabs his hair again and starts pacing in tiny circles again. "I don't _know_ what to do, this never happened before!" He jerks to a stop and hunches over, knuckles white and teeth gritted, looking to be on the verge of tearing his hair out.

"Keith!" Matt hops off the table, but Shiro gets there first, hands hovering uncertainly at his wrists.

"Keith, it's fine," he says, keeping his void calm and even. When Keith doesn't shy away he gently untangles his hands from his hair. "We can figure this out. And we're still evacuating everyone anyway, right?"

"Second group left just before you came down," Matt chimes in helpfully. "Coast guard's almost here, too."

"Yeah," Keith releases in a puff of air. "Yeah, you're right."

"There." Shiro lets go of his hands and slowly rubs his shoulders instead, careful that his prosthetic doesn't catch on the fabric. "We can reinforce our defenses in the meantime. Gather supplies. I assume someone's keeping an eye on the portal?"

Both nod.

"So, there. We'll be fine."

"I don't like not knowing what'll happen," Keith says quietly. Matt puts a hand on his back.

"No one does, but the best thing to do is prepare for anything," Shiro says.

"I guess." Keith shrugs them off and both take a step back. "I'm gonna... get back to work." He turns and strides off towards the doors; Shiro and Matt watch him go.

"I'm starting to really like that guy," Matt says, but somehow it's a grim statement. "Taking him in was the right thing to do."

"We'd be worse off if we hadn't," Shiro agrees. "And he _is_ your type."

"That's—I was being _serious,_ Shiro." Matt glares at him. Shiro grins back but it's short-lived.

"I know. I know what you mean." He runs a hand through his hair. "He's been through a lot but he's still—shit, he's still injured. And if something happens..."

"We gotta make sure nothing does," agrees Matt. "He doesn't deserve that."

"Exactly."

They look to the doors in unison.

"If he's the sort to go on suicide missions, we'll have our work cut out for us," Matt says after a moment, echoing Shiro's own thoughts.

"Yeah," Shiro says. "But we have to try."

* * *

Back up on the hill, work has slowed but not stopped. Shiro insists that anyone that didn't take a break should do so, and stares down the handful of people that try to keep going anyway.

"Save your strength," he tells them. "I don't want you exhausted if the demons come."

That works, and he settles himself on the platform for a breather to fill them in on what little he knows.

The sun is getting low when he calls a halt; their defenses are about as strong as he can reasonably expect, under the circumstances, and work is impeded anyway by the setting sun shining in everyone's faces. He texts Matt for an update and gets an answer shortly.

"Coast guard here. Can't fit everyone, though, but we've got soldiers now," the text reads. "Keith says come down when you can."

"Okay," he texts back, and tells his team he's heading down before doing so.

He's almost to the schoolhouse when he hears the distinctive crackling sound of a portal. He spins, looking up the hill; there are shouts and a bright light beyond the cottages. Then silence. Shit.

Shiro starts up the hill without a second thought. If something has happened he needs to be there to help; he needs to report back if their line has been breached. Before he gets far, though, a middle-aged woman comes down the hill in a pale undignified scramble.

"They want Keith!" she shouts to him. "They'll leave if we give them Keith!"

 _Hell no,_ is Shiro's first reaction.

 _Keith can't know about this,_ is his second, but a muttered, "Shit," behind him tells him Keith already heard it too. His heart jumps to his throat.

"No way," says Matt, and Shiro turns to face them. "Nope. Absolutely not."

"We can't trust them to hold up their end of the deal, Keith," Shiro says quickly. "You can't give yourself up."

Keith, who was staring blankly up the hill, blinks at him. Then he frowns.

"First, I never said I was planning to," he says, and Shiro's heart returns to its usual spot. "Second, of course we can't trust them. They'd take me and they'd keep invading anyway."

"Thank god," Matt mutters.

"I _am_ gonna go, though," Keith continues, and Shiro chokes on air.

" _What?_ " Matt squeaks. "But you just said—"

"It won't stop them, no, but it'll buy you time," says Keith, with a shrug far too mild for what he's suggesting. "And maybe I'll get another shot at their leader."

"No. No way," Shiro says. "Keith, it's not worth it."

"Why? I don't even belong here. You've known me less than a day."

His heart clenches at that, true as it is. "That doesn't mean I can just _watch you die,_ Keith."

"Yeah," Matt adds. "You're pretty cool. Kind of intense, but cool."

Keith blinks at him. Then he looks down at his feet and Shiro could swear he's blushing.

"Well, thanks," he mutters, and looks up. "But I still have to do this. You'll be able to get everyone off the island, and I'll get another shot at their leader."

Shiro has the feeling telling him no won't cut it.

"Then I'll go with you," he announces, and Keith and Matt both gape at him.

"What? No!" Keith says. "You could get hurt!"

"So could you," Shiro returns.

"I know what I'm doing."

"So do I."

"Not with _demons!_ "

"Shiro!" Matt interjects, finally finding his voice. "You can't, no way."

"I'm not letting Keith go alone," says Shiro.

"No," Keith says. "I'm not gonna let you get hurt on my watch. You're not coming."

Shiro eyes him. "I could say the same to you," he says pointedly, and Keith grimaces.

"Neither of you are going!" Matt shouts, throwing up his hands. "I'm not gonna lose _both_ of you!"

"Come too," Shiro suggests. Matt gapes. Keith lets out a muffled scream and grips his hair again.

"You've gotta be fuckin' _kidding_ me!" he groans. "I'm not gonna babysit _both_ of you—"

"Matt does MMA," Shiro says. "I have military training. And you have experience—you know what's beyond that portal. So, tell me honestly. Do you think the three of us, working together, can take out their leader?"

Keith freezes. Matt shifts to elbow Shiro in the side, but when Shiro glances down at him, he nods grimly.

"Nnrg. Yes," Keith says finally, reluctantly, hands still in his hair and eyes fixed on the ground. "Together, we might be able to do it."

"Then it's settled," Shiro says. "We go together."

He's probably going to regret this. But he'll absolutely regret it if he lets Keith go alone. And if they miss this chance—however much of a chance this is—to end it now? He'll _definitely_ regret that.

The only choice is to face it head on, together.

"I'm in, so tell us what we'll find on the other side, Keith," Matt says with a sigh. "We need to grab weapons or something too. If we're doing this, we can at least do it prepared."

Keith sighs and finally drops his arms. "Okay," he says. "Here's what you need to know."

* * *

There are demons waiting at the portal.

Not that that's surprising; they had to ask for Keith somehow. But seeing a couple of hulking purple beasts with glowing yellow eyes just... loitering... It's bizarre. But Keith walks forward with confidence anyway, so Shiro does his best to follow suit and Matt tags along behind.

"Here I am," Keith says, as they pass through the silent line of defenders. The islanders shuffle out of the way slightly, nervously, eyeing them and the demons both.

"Hmph." The bigger demon snorts. "So you are. So you agree to the bargain?"

"Yes, but these two are coming with me." Keith nods back to Shiro and Matt.

The demons snorts again. "What is this? An offering? Whatever. Get over here."

Keith looks back to both of them, meets their eyes. Nods. And they walk toward the portal.

The moment they're within reach the demons are on them, ripping away the bat strapped to Matt's shoulders, the crowbar on Shiro's. They take a knife hidden at Keith's back and he stiffens, but keeps his mouth tightly shut. Matt's hand finds Shiro's, and then they're being shoved unceremoniously into the light.

Shiro's first impression of the other side is the heat, and noise. He's still blinking from the blinding light of the portal but it's dark here, too, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. So by the time he realizes the noise is from rows and rows of demons above—by the time he registers that the high wall in front of him extends in a circle around them—by the time he realizes they're in an _arena,_ the portal has already closed behind them.

"Shit," Keith mutters.

"Now what?" Matt hisses.

"I don't know! I didn't expect them to send us here!"

"What are they expecting us to do?" Shiro asks slowly, fighting down panic. Being on display like this can't be a good sign.

"Fight," Keith says grimly.

"Each other?"

"I hope not."

Shiro looks around. The demons didn't follow them through, apparently, and there's no one else in the arena but the three of them.

"There's gotta be an exit," Matt says. "I mean, other than portals. Right?"

Keith frowns. "I don't know."

"You know what this place is but you don't—"

"I haven't _been_ here before! I only heard about it!"

"Guys," Shiro interrupts. There's a point of light nearby, growing brighter.

"A portal," Keith says, and he's off running towards it. After a second, Shiro is too, dragging Matt along with him.

"Something'll come out," Keith puffs. "Once it does, we go through the portal before it closes."

"How much time do we have?" Shiro asks.

"A few seconds?"

The burgeoning portal starts to crackle, and then springs open. The three of them split, Keith to one side and Matt and Shiro to the other, eyes fixed on the light.

They're almost to it when something large and cat-like leaps out of it, lithe and four-eyed and brilliant red. Shiro yanks Matt around him, towards the portal, keeping himself between him and the monster.

"Go!" he screams, and Matt stumbles through. He leaps after him but the crackling stops, and instead of light he finds only sand as he falls heavily to the ground.

"Shit," Keith huffs nearby. Shiro glances around—Matt is gone, but he and Keith weren't fast enough and now Matt's alone—

A nearby growl has him scrambling to his feet, only to tumble sideways again to avoid the monster's leap.

"Hey!" Keith shouts, and the monster turns. Shiro gets up again and frantically looks around; there must be something he can use, some way to defeat this monster before it kills them…

There are no weapons, though. No shelter, nothing to improvise with. Only sand.

"Look out!" Keith screams, and then Shiro is bowled over by the monster. His real arm is pinned beneath its claws as it growls in his face, dousing him in warm, foul air; the crowd cheers. He scrabbles for a handful of sand with his prosthetic and flings it at the thing's eyes.

It yelps and retreats enough for him to scramble backwards, wincing at the pain in his shoulder and the sound of sand crunching in the joints of his prosthetic.

"Shiro!" Keith shouts, and the monster yelps again as he punches it full in the eye—one of them, anyway—and shoves away to continue on to Shiro. "Are you okay!?"

"Fine," Shiro grits. "You?" One of Keith's hands is pressed to his stomach.

"Nothing new," Keith says—shit, Shiro forgot again that he was already injured. "Come on."

He hauls Shiro up to his feet, deceptively strong, and they both turn to face the monster. It's regrouping, one of four eyes shut tight and oozing but otherwise unhurt. They've got their work cut out for them.

"Have you fought one of these before?" Shiro asks as they and the monster start circling each other. The crowd is chanting something now but Shiro is all but deaf to it.

"Yeah," Keith says. "They don't handle stabbing well."

"That's gonna be a problem."

"I know." Keith grimaces. "If they hadn't found my _knife_ I—"

The monster lunges again and they split; it follows Keith this time, and Shiro turns on the spot and gives chase. He grabs for its tail, hoping to slow it down, once, twice—he gets hold of it and is immediately pulled off his feet. He gets a faceful of sand before he manages to kick around and get on his back. God this thing moves fast. He digs his heels into the ground and the tail flicks sharply, almost dislodging him; he digs his fingers into its hide, flesh and metal.

The tail flicks again, harder, and this time he's sent flying. There's a loud _crack_ when he lands, and he rolls a ways before dizzily sitting up.

"Shiro!"

"I'm okay," he calls back hoarsely. He's fine, just bruised, but his prosthetic has all but snapped in half, trailing wires and jagged edges of metal, and he can't move the hand at all. He gets to his feet in time to see Keith land a solid kick on the monster's snout, only for another to be caught in its jaws.

"KEITH!" He starts sprinting toward them as Keith is dragged off his feet and shaken violently. Shiro grabs the only thing he can—his dangling prosthetic hand—snaps it free of his arm completely, and flings it at the monster.

By some miracle, the broken end hits the monster's flank and leaves a gouge as it falls away. The monster screeches and lets go of Keith, flinging him in Shiro's direction.

"Keith!" he shouts again, running to meet him as he tumbles. He checks him over quickly before helping him sit up one-handed; Keith coughs and spits sand.

"I'm okay," he says hoarsely. "We gotta move."

"Right." And Shiro glances up to see the monster charging at them.

Keith's still on the ground, he can't get out of the way in time.

Shiro darts in front of Keith and braces himself, broken arm lifted defensively.

"Shiro!" Keith hisses, and then the beast is on them, knocking them down, closing its jaws around Shiro's shoulder—

And driving his broken prosthetic into the roof of its mouth.

The monster doesn't screech, just gurgles and collapses on their tangled legs. Shiro kicks it off, wrenching his arm free of its mouth; there's a semicircle of tooth marks in his shoulder and chest but they aren't _too_ deep, he thinks. He can still move his arm, at least. The crowd is roaring.

"Come on," Keith says, tugging him up, so he gets to his feet obligingly. They start running; Shiro doesn't quite realize what's happening until a new portal crackles to life in front of them. Keith pulls him sideways—a new demon steps through, two-legged and heavily armored—and then they're stumbling into the light.

Dazed as he is, Shiro stops moving the moment Keith lets go of him, blinking in the darkness. He hears grunts and some thumps, the sound of something hard hitting flesh, and when his eyes and mind adjust he sees Keith wrestling with a demon like the one in the stands. He jumps in to help, swiping at it with his shattered, bloody arm, distracting it long enough for Keith to knock it down and _stomp._ There's a sickening crunch, and it lies still.

"You okay?" Keith puffs, eyeing his arm.

"Yeah," Shiro says. "Yeah, I'm fine. We need to find Matt."

He half expects Keith to argue, say that their mission comes first, but Keith just nods tightly and peers out of the dark little cell. He swears under his breath.

"What?" Shiro asks, and joins him at the door. The moment he looks out he understands; the area outside is swarming with demons. Guards like the one they just took down are everywhere; others of more varied shapes and sizes don armor and spar with dummies or each other. Cages full of growling monsters line the walls.

"I could... wear the guard's armor," Shiro suggests. "Pretend you're a prisoner."

"You're too short," Keith responds flatly. "And not purple."

"They might not notice?"

"They'll notice your arm."

He looks down at it. It's sparking faintly, and in the light from the door he can see the blood and gore that covers it is blue, not red. It's... noticeable.

"Do you have a better idea?" Shiro asks. Keith frowns and doesn't respond. Great. It's only a matter of time before word gets down here they got through the portal, and then they'll be discovered and they'll be back to square one…

A sudden trumpet makes them both jump. The crowd outside also looks up, for a second, and then there's a scramble as they all... exit the room. The monsters left behind in the cages shriek and hiss, adding to the cacophony, but everyone else just streams out.

Cautiously, Shiro and Keith slip out of the cell. The wailing of the alarm continues as they look around; Keith elbows him and points at a door, and they start towards it.

They've almost reached it when it swings open; Shiro immediately takes a defensive stance, Keith doing the same beside him. And then Matt steps through, looking a little worse for wear but alive and in one piece.

"Oh good, it _is_ you two," he pants. "Come on, we don't have a lot of time." And he turns and heads right back out the door. Shiro and Keith hurry to follow.

"How'd you get out?" Keith asks.

"The portal led to a pen with a bunch of monsters, but I was able to climb out before they really got to me," Matt responds. "And then I saw that demon getting ready and I realized the next portal wouldn't open there too. So I set off an alarm to clear them out."

"Thanks," Shiro says.

"What happened to your arm?"

He's been cradling it, he realizes, as they jog down the dark hall. The movement jars the tooth marks in his shoulder, and the part of his arm in the prosthetic's socket is bruised and starting to feel like it's swelling.

"Broke," he says simply.

"So I see. Keith, do you know where we're going?"

"Kinda," Keith responds, squinting down the hall. "I think..."

"Brilliant," Matt mutters.

They pause at an intersection. Keith glances down both directions before going right.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Matt asks.

"We don't have time," Keith says by way of a response. "They already know we're loose in their base."

"Haven't you been here before?"

"Not this part!" Keith all but growls. Shiro shoots Matt a look, and nudges Keith with his elbow.

"Patience yields focus," he says. "They haven't found us yet. We can spare a moment to figure out where we are."

Keith huffs, but he does slow, frowning deeply into the darkness.

"We need to head down," he says. "As far down as we can get. I think we're somewhere in the middle of the complex right now—it shouldn't be far."

"Alright," Shiro says. "Down it is."

And down they go. They find a winding ramp just before the next intersection, and, at the sound of demons around the corner, hurry down it. The floor below is busier than the one they left; though it makes Keith grimace, they agree to hide and avoid rather than take on the demons patrolling the halls. So they sneak through the darkness, ducking into side halls and rooms to let demons pass.

"We're clear," Matt whispers in one such room, ear to the door. He and Shiro straighten to leave—and then Shiro notices Keith is still crouched, looking back into the small storage space.

"Keith?" he asks.

"I recognize this room," he responds, and slowly stands. "I think this is where I hid on my way in last time—yeah, here." He reaches into a dark space between crates and plucks some kind of tiny device out of the shadows. "My escape plan."

Shiro and Matt eye it. It looks mechanical, but not electrical—moving parts of wood and what Shiro suspects is bone, all carved with strange symbols.

"What... is it?" Matt asks.

"Sort of a... shortcut. It can make a portal, but only once. I couldn't get back to it last time so I had to do it from scratch, which is why I fucked it up and ended up in your reality instead of mine." He turns it over in his hands.

"That also why the demons managed to follow you?" Matt asks pointedly and Keith glares at him.

"I'm _very_ careful about that part. It's the destination I fucked up."

"Is that thing still good?" Shiro interjects before Matt can argue more, because what's done is done. He nods to the object in Keith's hands.

"Looks like," he says. "Guess I might as well bring it."

"Why'd you leave it in the first place?" Matt asks.

Keith shrugs, fidgets a little. Doesn't meet their eyes. "It _was_ a suicide mission," he says.

He didn't want to chicken out, Shiro realizes. He wanted to make sure he saw it through. And then he ended up escaping anyway.

"What went wrong?" he asks gently.

Keith kicks at the ground, lightly. "Couldn't get deep enough. A demon saw me, one of the big smart ones. I killed him but he'd already set off the alarm, and I couldn't get through all the demons in the way on my own." He glances up, just for a second. "I figured, better to regroup and try again than die before I even reach my goal. Better than failing outright."

Something tugs in Shiro's chest and he's reaching for Keith before he's even aware he's doing it. Apparently Matt has the same idea, because in seconds Keith is practically sandwiched between the two of them. He stiffens at the sudden contact and Shiro is about to pull away and apologize, but then he sighs and rests his forehead against Shiro's shoulder.

"You guys are..." His voice trails off, and Shiro can just barely tell he's frowning from this angle. "Soft? But not bad soft. No one's like this in my reality anymore."

Matt shifts. "What, they got killed?"

"No." Keith shakes his head against Shiro's shoulder. "They got hard. You can't... You can't care about people in a place like that."

"Keith." Shiro cranes down to see him. "Even in the worst situations, there is always someone who cares."

He snorts, a faint huff of laugh. "I had a—friend, like you. Always making sure everyone was okay. But he couldn't always... sometimes he had to let people go. Sometimes he had to tell the rest of us to let go. You can't care about everyone."

Shiro steps back, followed by Matt, and takes Keith by the shoulder with his remaining hand.

"Watch me," he says firmly, and Keith cracks just the slightest smile.

"I hate to interrupt this bonding moment," Matt says after a second, "but we should probably get going."

"Yeah." Keith finally steps away from Shiro and looks to the door. "I know the way from here. We just have to not get caught."

"Don't jinx us, buddy."

"We'll have to be extra careful, since they already know we're here," Shiro says. "Jinxed or otherwise. Is everyone ready?"

Both nod.

"Then let's go."

He presses an ear to the door to make sure the coast is clear, then leads the way out. Keith slips ahead, silently pointing down the hall, so they follow, as quickly and quietly as they can.

* * *

Their route is agonizingly slow. Avoiding demons means hiding breathlessly in shadows, sometimes backtracking down entire hallways before they can get by a patrol. Their saving grace, it seems, is that the demons have no clue where they've gone—they're passed by a half dozen search parties, frequently grunting out what Keith translates as descriptions of the three of them, but they're always on their way to somewhere else.

And all the while they keep descending, further and further down into what Shiro can only assume is the Earth—but then, maybe if they're in another reality, it's a different planet entirely.

"There," Keith finally whispers, pointing to a door ahead.

"Throne room?" Matt asks.

Keith shakes his head. "Armory."

They enter and find it blessedly empty. Keith makes a beeline for the swords; Matt gives a few polearms a test swing before settling on a simple staff. Shiro regards the array of weaponry—much of it unnecessarily spiky and cruel—before settling on a small shield. He doesn't trust himself to wield any of this stuff in his off hand anyway.

"Ready, Captain America?" Matt snorts.

Shiro lifts his broken prosthetic pointedly.

"Right, yeah, fair enough." He turns to Keith. "Are _you_ ready?"

"Always," says Keith grimly. Matt's grin slides away.

"Right then. Shall we?" He gestures to the door. They can't be far now; this is it.

Now or never.

"This way," Keith says, and leads the way out of the armory. The hallway broadens as they turn a corner, growing more ornately carved—though no less dark or unsettling—as they get closer to their goal.

"There'll be guards," Keith warns quietly. "We have to fight them. The noise will attract others, so as soon as they see us, we have a time limit."

"Got it," says Matt. Shiro nods. Keith pauses at the next corner.

"Ready?" he breathes, and they both nod. He holds up three fingers, two, one.

As one they charge around the corner, startling the pair of guards that stand before an enormous open door. They're on them before the guards can do more than shout; Keith quickly dispatches one while Shiro and Matt beat down the other. And then they step through the door.

The king of the demons sits calmly on his throne, watching them approach, motionless. Even from the far side of the long room Shiro can see he's enormous, at least eight feet tall if not more. There's a second, smaller throne beside his, empty.

"Are there two?" he whispers.

"No," Keith responds. "We killed the queen."

The throne room is empty besides. Shiro wonders at it; surely the king would have more protection? Then again, with all the trouble they went through getting here, maybe it's not that surprising.

Or maybe the king is formidable enough on his own. He certainly looks it.

"Impressive," is how the king greets them, once they're close enough. "None have ever come so far. This should prove interesting." And he stands and sheds his cloak, revealing thick, dark, spiky armor that Shiro can't imagine they'll ever penetrate. He swallows.

It doesn't matter; they have to try.

"I know you," the king says slowly, stepping down from his throne. He's looking at Keith. "The leader of the last of the unsubjugated. What an honor. Tell me, do your followers know you've left them?"

"Oh, fuck off," snarls Keith.

The king actually pauses. "Let us get to it, then," he says. And then he charges.

He moves impossibly fast for one so large, and the three of them barely scatter in time. He seems fixated on Keith, but when Shiro steps in from the side to strike with his broken prosthetic the king blocks it with barely a glance in his direction. That doesn't bode well.

"Keith!" Matt shouts, and Keith ducks under a swing of the sword that's appeared in the king's hand. Shiro didn't even see him draw it. Keith swings back as Matt does and the king blocks both; Shiro lunges for the gap under his arm but the king kicks him away and he tumbles.

"Shiro!" Keith shouts, and Shiro rolls out of the way as the king's sword strikes the ground inches from his shoulder. Matt's staff clatters uselessly against the king's armor. The king strikes again and it's all Shiro can do to scramble back out of the way. The third strike he catches on his shield; he kicks upward at the king's arm, but his sword is stuck in Shiro's shield and it almost takes his arm with it before they part.

Keith, meanwhile, is taking advantage of the distraction, thrusting at apparent weak points in the armor only to be shoved away. Matt lands a solid hit on the king's stomach, and that finally shifts his focus from Shiro to Matt.

Now Matt is the one scrambling back, sparks flying as his staff takes every blow from the king's sword. Keith pauses to haul Shiro back up to his feet and then they're pursuing, trying to find some flaw in the king's solid backplate.

Then Matt screams, and Shiro looks up to find the king's sword deep in Matt's shoulder. He yells and goes low, aiming his broken prosthetic at the gap at the back of the king's knee; the blow jars his shoulder badly but it penetrates the leather and the king roars and kicks him back again.

"Matt!" Keith ducks around to shield him as the king swings again, low and fast; it's an awkward angle and he barely blocks it, wincing at the strain. Shiro barely bothers getting to his feet, lunging in again at the king's other knee.

The joint of his prosthetic is all gummed up with blood, though, and this time he doesn't manage to hit straight on; his arm glances off the leather and the king kicks back again, this time hitting Shiro's forehead solidly. Shiro's vision goes starry black for a moment, and his head hurts terribly as he tries to get to his feet again. He stumbles and falls, once, before something solid and warm props him up.

"Shiro," Matt pants.

"Matt." Shiro blinks, trying to clear the fuzz from his eyes. "Are you okay?" He can just make out Keith defending against the king, drawing him away from the two of them.

 _Suicide mission,_ he remembers with a jolt.

"I'll live."

"Matt." Shiro tries to turn to look and almost falls again. Matt hisses as he struggles to keep him standing. "You gotta... stay back."

"Shiro, you can't even stand."

Shiro shakes his head, blinking hard—ow, ow, bad idea, movement hurts more. "I'm fine. You're wounded."

"You're concussed."

"I'm fine. Someone has to help Keith."

They both look to where Keith is steadily falling back, just barely holding his own. They meet each other's eyes, and something hard settles in Shiro's chest.

Suicide mission may be right, but they have to try.

"Together?" Matt asks softly.

"Yeah," says Shiro. They turn; Matt lets go, lets Shiro get his feet under him. And then he starts running, and Shiro follows.

They collide with the king in a flurry of half-strength blows, one-armed and bleeding and _pained_ but trying all the same. The king roars in surprise and turns to face them but they strike again anyway, Shiro with his broken arm—his shield is gone, he doesn't know what happened to it—and Matt thrusting his staff like a sword. Shiro's prosthetic catches in the gap between breastplate and leg armor and the straps snap, sending him stumbling back clutching his throbbing stump.

And then Keith shouts wordlessly and leaps onto the king's back, and slits his throat.

The king makes a noise that is more gurgle than roar, and Keith is shouting something and pulling at Shiro and Matt both. Then there is a flash, and then darkness.

* * *

For a while, Shiro is barely cognizant of his surroundings. There are people, humans, yelling at him to stay awake in quiet voices, but it's dark and blurry and he can't make any of them out. Sometimes someone presses into his side, steadying him—one lanky and familiar, Matt, the other harder and more tentative that must be Keith. There are hands on his face and shoulder and arm, sometimes cold and stinging, sometimes warm and firm.

It takes a while before, amidst the strange faces that slowly become clearer and the dark unfamiliar surroundings, he realizes they're not back on Cuttyhunk.

"Where are we?" he mutters.

"Told you he's conscious," says Matt. Keith's face swims into view.

"We're in my reality," he says, and it takes a minute for Shiro to process that. It must show on his face when it clicks, because Keith grips his hand tightly.

"Don't worry, I can get you home," he adds. "We did it, Shiro. Everyone's safe now."

"...Oh," says Shiro. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

"Matt?"

"I'm fine." Matt leans into view. "Welcome back, sunshine."

Shiro's still feeling sluggish, but at least he can see again. At least Matt and Keith are here and okay. "How did we get here?"

"My escape plan," says Keith. "I showed it to you, remember?"

"Yeah." Shiro rubs his head and finds it bandaged. "So we're with your... friends?"

"Yep." Keith guides him to sit on a tattered sofa, and he does with a relieved groan. Keith and Matt sit beside him, both also bandaged, he notes. That’s good. He leans his head back against the sofa and closes his eyes.

"Hey, no." Matt elbows him harder than strictly necessary. "You still gotta stay awake."

"My head hurts," Shiro mumbles, opening his eyes reluctantly. The room is still dark but now that he's more aware he can tell there's not much to see anyway, just dust and a table.

"The king kicked you in the face, of course it does."

Keith reclaims his hand, and when Matt carefully leans into his other side, Shiro has never felt so safe. At least, not in a very long time.

"Keith," Shiro says after a minute. "You'll come visit us, right?"

Keith tenses somewhat at that. "What do you mean?"

"You're staying here, aren't you?" Shiro says. "Now that you're home. But you can open portals, so you can come visit us, right?" His head pangs. "I'll miss you."

Beside him, Matt shifts. "Me too."

Keith is quiet for a moment. His hand is warm, almost hot in Shiro's.

"Yeah, I'll visit," he says finally.

And somehow, Shiro is disappointed by that. What was he expecting—Keith to up and say he'd return with them? He's only known them for a day, maybe two by now—an eventful day, sure, but a day nonetheless. He can hardly ask Keith to give up everything he's known for them.

Shiro wouldn't want to stay in this dark, grim place, but familiarity is a powerful motivator.

"You're welcome anytime," Matt adds, carefully, and Shiro has the sense he's disappointed too.

* * *

They stay there a while longer, mostly quiet, until the dim light of dawn creeps in through the window and someone comes in to shine a rather brighter light in Shiro's eyes and tell him he's well enough to go home and sleep.

Keith opening a portal to send them home involves drawing runes in a circle on the ground, which isn't quite what Shiro had been picturing, but the moment he finishes a portal springs to life in front of them. He stands and turns to them.

"Well... bye, I guess," he says.

" _Dude_ ," says Matt, and steps forward and hugs him. Keith blinks in shock but he quickly returns it, tightly enough that Matt makes a sort of wheezy squeak until Keith lets go. And then it's Shiro's turn, and he hugs Keith with all the strength he can muster in his one arm and presses his nose into Keith's rather greasy hair and tries to memorize this.

It's over too soon, and Keith is stepping away, expression blank like a mask. And then he turns and walks quickly away, nearly running, leaving Shiro and Matt alone at the portal.

"I really like that guy," Matt says quietly as they watch him go.

"Me too." Shiro offers his hand and nods towards the portal. "Let's go home?"

Matt looks up at him. "What if he _doesn't_ come visit?" he asks, and Shiro stomach twists.

"I want to believe he will," he responds carefully. "I think he'll miss us, too. I hope so."

Matt searches his face a moment, and then, finally, takes his hand.

"Let's go home," he says, and together they step through the portal.

They're immediately greeted by bright lights and guns. Shiro reels back, shutting his eyes against the inevitable flashback as Matt shouts for them not to shoot...

And then hands are on his chest, around his waist, and Matt is telling him to breathe. Shiro sucks in a breath and opens his eyes. The guns are down, the lights at their feet; it's the National Guard, not an enemy. He's safe.

"I'm okay," he says, and Matt nods and lets go.

"We were told there were three missing," one of the Guard calls. "Is it just you two?"

Shiro and Matt exchange a look. How can they even begin to explain Keith?

"It's just us," Shiro says finally, and the Guard nods.

They're escorted back down to the schoolhouse, where the handful of residents still on the island have taken shelter. The relief when they report on their success is palpable; apparently the attack picked right back up almost as soon as they left, and they nearly lost the island before the National Guard arrived. The fighting's been heavy since, until just a few hours ago, when the flow of demons suddenly stopped.

"We're still sweeping the island for any stragglers, but the portals are closed and we think we've got them all," a Guard tells them. "Your fortifications around the cell tower were a lifesaver."

"I'm glad," says Shiro.

Finally, they're shown back to the house, somehow untouched during the fighting; all their things are right where they left them this morning, and Matt retrieves his phone to go call his father and let them know they're safe. Shiro, despite it being well into the morning by now, makes only the barest effort to clean up and change his bloodied clothes—he leaves his bandages be—before collapsing into bed. He doesn't complain when, a few minutes later, Matt crawls in after him—just pulls him closer and breathes deeply and, finally, sleeps.

It's the noise, not the light, that wakes him what can't be much more than an hour later; the familiar crackling that sends his heart racing and his feet carrying him out of bed and to the window. Matt rolls out of bed after him with a confused grumble and peers around his shoulder.

The portal spits out just one figure, dark-haired and familiar, and once again Shiro is scrambling for the porch, this time with Matt on his heels. They race down the stairs and through the brush to the humming portal.

"Did you guys mean it when you said I was welcome anytime?" Keith blurts all in one breath as soon as they're within earshot. He's breathing hard, like he's run here just as they have, looking between the two of them.

"Of course," Shiro says without hesitation. Matt nods vigorously beside him.

Keith tugs on his hair and looks at the grass at his feet. "Even if it's all the time?"

It takes Shiro a moment to realize what Keith is asking, and when he does it takes his breath away. Matt gets it a second before he does and nearly tackles Keith where he stands.

"Of course you can stay, are you kidding?!" Matt says, and kisses him. It's a fast thing, leaving Keith blinking without a chance to respond. Shiro slips his arm around Keith's waist while he's still dazed.

"Of course you can stay," he echoes. Matt looks a little surprised at himself; Keith just looks surprised, but after a second he makes a sort of half-whine, half-grumble and turns and hides his face in Shiro's shoulder. He blindly reaches out until he finds Matt and tugs him closer by his shirt. Shiro laughs and finally Matt relaxes.

"Okay?" Matt asks.

"Yeah," Keith mumbles.

Shiro kisses his temple, and Matt's too, pressing the stump of his arm into Matt's shoulder in the best approximation of a hug he can manage right now. Matt grins at him, back at Keith, back up at him.

Keith disentangles himself after a minute, still red-faced, and pokes his head back through the portal. Shiro can't hear what he says, but when he pulls back it's only moments before the portal closes. Keith rejoins them quietly, and they lead him back inside.

In the end, they fall asleep in the big bed together, all three of them, and that's how Sam finds them when he returns to the island. Shiro wakes partially to see him standing in the bedroom doorway; he waves, and Shiro waves back sleepily. Shiro's eyes are closed again before the door is.

They'll have to fill him in on everything later; there'll be a lot to talk about, actually. What to do about Keith, how to handle this burgeoning relationship...

But right now, he'll sleep in the arms of the two boys he might just love—everything else can come later. They've earned this chance to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [maternalcube](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com)


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